Evening Monologue

The breeze is shy and reticent

Not spirited enough to usher merriness

Only feeble quivering of the leaves

There’s an undertone of resentment

One of those morose evenings

When nature withdraws into silence

Here I am, indulging in a monologue

Trying to inspire the drooping Spirit

There are occasional acknowledgements

With the sudden murmur of leaves

Swaying branches do nod at me

But I shall have to wait for a dialogue

Let the night begin, till then I can meditate©